


Like You Mean It

by notoriginalenoughforagoodusername



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, I'll be adding more relationships as the fic progresses, M/M, They're both so oblivious, help them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 04:07:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10528629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notoriginalenoughforagoodusername/pseuds/notoriginalenoughforagoodusername
Summary: Courfeyrac accidentally says he has a boyfriend, so Combeferre has to fill the role for a few weeks until they can tell their friends it was all fake.





	1. Chapter 1

“Ferre!” Courfeyrac called through the apartment, rushing down the hallway towards Combeferre’s room. He stopped when he got to the closed door and knocked, just in case he was interrupting something. He waited a few seconds for an answer, but when none came he pushed the door open slowly. He really needed to talk to Combeferre _now_.

Combeferre was sitting on his bed with his knees pulled to his chest and a book resting on them.

“Are you wearing ear plugs?” Courfeyrac asked, only realizing the futility of the question after he asked it. When Combeferre didn’t respond, he plucked a book from the many on his desk and tossed it onto the bed near Combeferre’s feet, hoping the disturbance on the bed would be enough to distract him. He must have been right, because Combeferre looked up at him and reached up to remove something from his ear.

“Why are you wearing ear plugs?” Courfeyrac all but yelled, waving his arms around.

“Because you’re dramatic and this is my fourth attempt at starting this book,” Combeferre answered with a fond smile as he reached up to take the other ear plug out. He slipped a bookmark between the pages and shut the book.

“Ferre, I messed up,” Courfeyrac whined and fell face first onto the bed.

“This is what I meant when I said you’re dramatic,” Combeferre sighed. Courfeyrac groaned. “What did you do?” he continued patiently.

“You know how we have to go to that stupid thing with Enjolras and all of our parents in a few weeks?” Courfeyrac asked, lifting his head to look at Combeferre again.

“You mean the weekend event we’re all dreading and have tried every excuse we can think of to get out of? Yes, I know the one,” Combeferre replied in his stupidly calming voice that Courfeyrac did not need to think about right now considering what he’d just done. Courf groaned again.

“What even is that thing?” Courf asked suddenly, forgetting about his mistake for a moment. Combeferre stared at him then looked away quickly.

“I don’t actually know,” Combeferre answered. “I know it’s something you, Enjolras, and I have to suffer through every other year.”

“We’ve been going to these things every other year for most of our lives and you don’t know what it really is?” Courfeyrac asked asked, propping up on one elbow and resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “Seriously?”

“You don’t know either,” Combeferre accused.

“Yeah, but I’m me and you’re you,” Courf said.

“What did you do, Courf?” Combeferre asked again, changing the topic suddenly. Courf made a mental note to ask Enjolras what the thing was as rolled over so he was lying on his back star-fished across the bed. Enjolras probably knew.

“So, Enjolras’ mom called to make sure we couldn’t come up with any more excuses and we were talking- or she was talking and I was cringing and trying not to hang up rudely on her- and she mentioned possibly setting me up with the daugher of one of her friends. I don’t know why she was trying to set _me_ up, but I didn’t want that thought to continue in her head,” Courf explained.

“Understandable. But what did you do?” Combeferre prompted. Courfeyrac let out another high- pitched whine before he continued.

“I said ‘oh no, I have a boyfriend,’ when I, in fact, do not have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, Courf,” Combeferre sighed, and removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, it gets so much worse,” Courf said. Combeferre raised an eyebrow. “She started saying things like ‘tell me about him’ and ‘we need to meet him’ and because I am me, I said ‘oh, you already know him.’”

“Courfeyrac,” Combeferre said and leaned forward and put his face in his hands.

“I know, Ferre what am I gonna do?”

“Get a boyfriend,” Combeferre suggested unhelpfully.

“That they know?” Courf said. Then everything fit into place, as much as he didn’t like it. “Combeferre, pretend to be my boyfriend.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want Combeferre to be his boyfriend- he’d wanted that for quite a long time now- it’s that he didn’t want Combeferre to pretend to be his boyfriend.

“W-what?” Combeferre stuttered, his eye widening and staring at Courfeyrac in both shock and slight panic. “Why me?”

“Because they only know you and Enjolras,” Courf explained.

“Then why not Enjolras?” Combeferre said quickly. Courf wasn’t sure if he should be hurt or not, but he was slightly disappointed Combeferre wasn’t jumping at the chance to fill the role of his boyfriend.

“Because Enjolras can’t keep a secret to save his life,” Courf said. “And I don’t wanna get yelled at for lying if we get caught- which will happen if Enjolras knows.”

“So, we would have to pretend to date, and Enjolras can’t know at all?” Combeferre said.

“Yes,” Courfeyrac answered. That wasn’t that hard was it?

“But Enjolras isn’t stupid,” Combeferre said. “He’ll pick up on us suddenly dating, and still be able to tell people.”

“Crap, you’re right,” Courfeyrac said, looking away and staring at the wall for a few seconds, thinking about what to do. Then he knew. Oh he was a genius. “We should start now, make it believable and give him time so he won’t think anything of it when the event rolls around.”

Combeferre stared at him incredulously.

“So now, we are not only tricking our best friend, who knows both of us better than anyone, but we are now going to be tricking the group of people we are around most?”

“Yeah, exactly, it shouldn’t be that hard,” Courf said with a shrug of his shoulders. Combeferre let out an exasperated sigh and brought the book up to his forehead, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Courfeyrac, you do realize that none of those people can keep a secret right, I’m honestly surprised they’ve kept Grantaire’s crush on Enjolras a secret for so long- although it’s pointless because Enjolras is head over heels for him- but that’s not the point. The point is that if one of them puts two and two together _they will all know_ ,” Combeferre said and looked at Courf to make sure he understood.

“Well, I mean, you do have a point,” Courf said, tilting his head. Combeferre looked relieved, but Courf pretended not to see his face and continued. “But it shouldn’t be that hard, just like, holding hands and calling each other pet names and stuff like that.”

Combeferre’s face fell again and he rolled his eyes.

“Ferre, please,” Courf begged. “When is it, two and a half weeks? We can totally do this. Including the event it’s less than three weeks, then we can come back and tell everyone it was fake and explain and it’ll be fine.” Combeferre glared at him, shaking his head slightly.

“I’ll think about it,” he said seriously, which was good, it meant he was actually considering it, which meant it was probably going to happen. “What’s today, Thursday? Tomorrow’s movie night, everyone will be there- I think even Feuilly doesn't have to work tomorrow- so if we need everyone to think we’re dating that’ll be the time to say something.”

Combeferre was already planning. He was on board with Courfeyrac’s stupid plan.

Then Courf realized him being on board with the stupid plan meant he was going to have to pretend to date Combeferre for three weeks. Oh God, why did he do these things to himself. He jumped off the bed and rushed out of the room before he could say anything stupid.

In his attempt at getting away from Combeferre to think about anything other than Combeferre- which he already knew he would fail at- he found himself face down on the sofa wondering how he managed to get himself into stupid situations.

He’d found himself thinking that a lot recently. Because he was stupid. And did these things a lot.

This was not going to be fun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie night is a mess.

Courfeyrac spent most of the next day stressing. If Combeferre refused to pretend to date him, he would have to come up with another plan quickly, but if Combeferre agreed, he would have to pretend to date Combeferre.

Both were stressful options to Courfeyrac.

“I’ll go along with your stupid plan,” Combeferre said when they were about to leave the apartment to go to the movie night. A grin split across Courfeyrac’s face as he pulled Combeferre into a hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you-”

“Courf-”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you-”

“Courfeyrac, stop it, it’s fine-”

“Thank you,” Courf said one last time, smiling widely.

“Come on, we have to go or we’re gonna be late,” Combeferre said and pulled the door open.

“Right,” Courfeyrac said and walked through the now open door. Combeferre followed him and pulled it closed behind him.

“Also, we need to get our stories straight if we’re gonna be tricking our friends for the next two weeks,” Combeferre said.

“Yeah,” Courf muttered, looking at the ground. Coming up with something he wished could actually happen would happen. That would be fun, and not a painful reminder that he wasn’t actually dating Combeferre.

Then he realized how bad it would look if Combeferre- at any point after this was all over- found out Courfeyrac was in love with him during all this. He wasn’t pretending to date Combeferre because we wanted to, he was doing it because he’s an idiot and Combeferre is nice enough to help him out of the situation he’d gotten himself into.

“Did you have anything in mind?” Combeferre asked, pulling Courfeyrac from his thoughts.

“What- oh, no, not really. I hadn't really thought about it,” Courf answered honestly.

“What do you think they'd believe?” Combeferre asked. Courf shrugged.

“I mean, they know me, so some sort of grand gesture would be believable,” Courf said and glanced up at Combeferre.

“Something with glitter,” he added.

“Shut up,” Courf said chuckled and shoved Combeferre’s arm with his shoulder.

“But I think just talking and someone slipping something into the conversation by accident is pretty believable too.”

“What do you mean?” Combeferre asked sounding confused.

“Just, like,” Courf said cautiously. Combeferre raised his eyebrows. “One of slipped up and, said we like the other.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s believable,” Combeferre muttered, looking away from Courf and keeping his eyes fixed on the sidewalk.

“We can say I did it since I messed up and came up with the idea,” Courf suggested and waved his arm around pointlessly.

“Think they’ll believe that?” Combeferre was staring at his shoes.

“Yup,” Courfeyrac answered quickly.

“Why?” Combeferre asked just as fast. _Crap_.

“I mean,” he said in an attempt to salvage the suddenly messy situation. “Would they believe if you did?”

There was no other word than awkward to describe Combeferre’s expression.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Maybe.”

“We’re almost there,” Courf asked to steer the subject into less awkward waters. Although he wasn’t wrong; they were suddenly very close to the Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta apartment where most movie nights were held. “We need to come up with something.”

“Oh, um, damn, you’re right,” Combeferre stuttered, looking ahead.

“Okay, so,” Courf started. “If they ask- which they probably will because, come on, they’re them- let me talk, I’ll make sure it’s believable, but just go with what I say.” Combeferre looked sceptical. “Look, I’m not gonna say anything that obviously takes a lot of planning, okay? Just something like you said something about how no one wants to date you and I said something about how _I_ do, which lead to a conversation neither of us really remember. It’s that easy.”

“Fine,” Combeferre sighed as they approached the apartment door. They stopped outside and looked at each other.

“One more thing,” Courf said. Combeferre looked at him again. “If you have to kiss me, kiss me like you mean it.”

“ _Wow_ , okay,” Combeferre sighed.

“Hey, you know our friends! That’s a good reminder,” Courf defended. Combeferre looked at the door again and brought his hand up.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” he sighed and knocked on the door. Courf reached over and grabbed Combeferre’s hand in his own.

“We gotta make this believable,” he said when Combeferre glanced at him, then their hands, and then back at him.

“Yeah, I guess we do,” he muttered just before the door opened.

“Chetta!” Courfeyrac cried and pulled his arms up to wrap around her in a hug, and accidently yanked Combeferre’s arm along with him.

Right. They were holding hands. How could he have forgotten? He’d grabbed Combeferre’s hand not ten seconds before, _how could he have forgotten?_ He needed to get better at hand-holding. Especially at hand-holding with Combeferre, because he’d be doing that a lot over the next few weeks.

Courfeyrac let go so he could wrap his arms around Musichetta. She returned the hug with a smile, and when they let go of each other she moved to hug Combeferre.

“Hey, Chetta,” he said softly and grinned.

“It’s good to see you,” she said before she leaned back against the doorframe. She glanced down at where the two had joined hands again and raised her eyebrows. “That’s new.”

Courfeyrac could feel his cheeks burn as he looked sheepishly at the ground.

“Yes,” he muttered with a small smile to play into the part. “It is.”

When he looked up Musichetta was looking between the two of them with a smile on her face. He glanced at Combeferre who smiled at him, although it looked a little strained.

“Good for you two,” Musichetta said and turned around and called into what seemed to be a crowded apartment, “Courf and Ferre are here!”

The announcement was met with a chorus of a few ‘finally’s and ‘it’s about damn time’s.

They walked into the living room and Courfeyrac took a quick head count. Everyone else was already there.

Enjolras was sitting on the end the sofa with Feuilly next to him and Bahorel crammed on the other end. Eponine and Marius were sitting on barstools by the counter that served as a wall between the small kitchen to the living room, and Cosette was sitting on the countertop between them. Everyone else was sitting either in a chair or on the floor. Musichetta walked through the crowded living room to the kitchen as Combeferre and Courfeyrac said hello to everyone and the latter hugged a few people.

“Sorry, we’re late,” Courf said.

“Courf took too long getting ready,” Combeferre added flatly as they sat down on the floor in front of the sofa since every seat was already occupied. Courf turned and gaped at him, both eyes and mouth open wide.

“Quick to throw me under the bus there, aren’t ya Ferre?”

“It’s the truth,” Combeferre answered, one side of his mouth quirking up. “And I don’t think anyone here doubts it.”

“Combeferre!” Musichetta called from the kitchen. “Be nice to your boyfriend!”

“Yeah, Ferre,” Courf said teasingly and leaned against Combeferre’s side. “Be nice to your boyfriend.”

“What?” Enjolras asked flatly from the sofa above them. Courf stretched his neck and to look at him.

“Boyfriends,” Courf said simply, pointing at Combeferre, then himself, them Combeferre again.

“What! Since when?” Joly demanded with a smile and wide, excited eyes from the comfy chair next to the sofa.

“Not long,” Combeferre answered.

“How? What happened?” Cosette asked, leaning toward them from where she was sitting on the countertop.

“Well,” Combeferre started and turned to look at Courf.

“Well, it all started with me and Combeferre talking-” Courf began dramatically and grabbing Combeferre’s arm and clinging to it.

“Why did I let you tell the story,” he heard Combeferre mumble. He also heard ‘not the dramatic version’ and ‘the short one please’ from around the room. He knew what he was doing.

“Shush,” he said before continuing. “It was really simple. Combeferre said something about dating, I said I wanted to date him because I can’t keep my mouth shut to save my life, and we talked, and this happened.” He grabbed Combeferre’s hand as he finished speaking.

“Aww,” Cosette cooed from the counter.

“That might actually be the most vague story Courfeyrac has ever told,” Marius said.

“Well, if you want more detail,” Courf said and wiggled his eyebrows.

“No!” Three people yelled at once. Combeferre rolled his eyes.

“We love you and we’re happy for you,” Bahorel said and pointed at the blank TV screen. “But you were late and we should have started a movie by now.” His statement caused a lot of muttering in agreement so someone picked a movie to start.

As the screen came to life and the movie started Courfeyrac leaned into Combeferre’s side, which wasn’t anything new. He always leaned against Combeferre at movie nights when they sit together.

This was so weird, Courf realized, and it was going to be weird. He was pretending to date his best friend, who he was really in love with, who was pretending to love him back, but wasn’t aware Courf was in love with him. It wasn’t just weird, it was _painful_.

He looked up at Combeferre’s face from where he was sitting next to him and instantly regretted it. It was times like this he remembered his friend was gorgeous. The way the harsh whites and light blues from whatever scene was unfolding on the screen highlighted his features was breathtaking.

Courfeyrac had a right to stare, right? He was dating Combeferre, right? Or at least as far as anyone who normally would have said something if he got caught knew. Except Combeferre- if Combeferre caught him he was screwed.

Which is- of course- exactly what happened.

Combeferre suddenly turned and looked at him. Courf smiled at him, only a little forced as Combeferre blinked at him. Then a smile played on his lips as well and he was pulling his hand from Courf’s grip grip because they were still holding hands and then he was wrapping his arm around Courf’s shoulders and Courf was going to _pass out_.

Courf tried his best to focus on the movie, but he was so focused on keeping his eyes on the screen that he didn’t take in a single thing. He was too focused on Combeferre’s around him, on the way they had been holding hands before this, on Combeferre’s smile when he caught him looking at him.

A few more minutes passed where Courf took in none of the movie before something happened that caught his attention.

“Hey,” Combeferre said sharply. Courf spun to look at him and saw he was glaring at Bahorel and Feuilly with raised eyebrows. The other two looked like they were stifling laughter. Then Combeferre reached up with the arm that wasn’t around Courf’s shoulders and ran the hand _through Courf’s hair- what the fuck._

Courf was okay... He could take this. He could ignore the feeling of Combeferre’s fingers in his hair and- no he couldn’t- _god,_ he was fucked. He was distracted by the pieces of popcorn suddenly falling from his hair, though.

“Wow,” he said and looked up at Bahorel and Feuilly, who both burst into laughter. Courf could hear snickering and giggles from around the room. “Real mature.” Bahorel shrugged.

“Well,” he said simply. “You were sitting right there, it was perfect.”

“And you were late,” Feuilly added. Everyone else except Combeferre nodded along with the statement.

Courf stuck his tongue out at his friends before snuggling into Combeferre’s side again.

“Wow, real mature,” Grantaire repeated teasingly. Courf had to work to suppress his smile. He really did love his friends despite how annoying they could be sometimes.

Courf looked up at Combeferre and saw his grin. He shoved his shoulder lightly into Combeferre’s side and Combeferre pulled him a little closer. Soon he began to drift off.

* * * * *

He woke to Combeferre shaking him lightly.

“Courf,” he was saying. “Come on, it’s late, we gotta go.”

“Hmm,” Courf mumbled, lifting his head and opening his eyes. He looked around and realized everyone who didn’t live in the apartment had left already- except Bahorel, who was probably spending the night there for whatever reason. “Crap, sorry,” he said.

“No problem, Courf,” Joly said with a wide smile. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just stressed, and obviously more tired than I thought,” he chuckled lightly and worked on standing up.

“Thank you, guys,” Combeferre said and stood up as well. He reached out and grabbed Courf’s hand and Courf remembered the crazy, stupid thing they were doing. That really helped wake him up.

“No problem,” Joly said again as they walked to the door.

“See you guys later,” Courf said and rubbed his eyes.

“Bye.”

“See ya.”

Courfeyrac and Combeferre walked out the door and down the street in silence for a few minutes.

“Do you think they bought it?” Courf asked eventually.

“I think so,” Combeferre answered, not looking at him. Courf was too tired to think about what that meant.

They continued walking, and didn’t let go of each other’s hands until they got home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure when the next update will be, it'll probably take longer than this one did. Sorry. Come talk to me about the fic or about Courferre in general on Tumblr! ( @thegoodlesmisurlsaretaken )


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The "couple" spends some time with Enjolras, and things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO YES I AM BACK!! I have not forgetten this fic, and I plan on updating more often than every two and a half months from now on, I promise.

“So Ferre,” Courfeyrac said a few days after the movie night. They were sitting on the couch in the apartment; Combeferre was sitting up right reading a book and Courfeyrac was lying so he was taking up the two remaining space, scrolling on his phone. 

“Yes Courf,” Combeferre said without looking up from the book. 

“I think we need to hang out with Enjolras again before the thing,” Courfeyrac said, lowering his phone slightly. 

“Okay,” Combeferre answered simply. “I haven’t seen him in a few days.” 

“No, like,” Courfeyrac said, sitting up so he was sitting on the cushion right next to Combeferre. “Okay, don’t get me wrong here, I love hanging out with Enjolras, but I think we need to spend more time with him as a couple.” 

“Oh.” Short and simple. No emotion, yet had many meanings. Combeferre finally lowered the book from his gaze. “Yeah, okay,” Combeferre added. 

“What should we do? Invite him over? Ask him to meet us somewhere?” Courfeyrac suggested. 

“We could have him over, yeah,” Combeferre answered.

Just as the sentence left his mouth there was a knock on the door. Both their heads jerked in that direction- Courfeyrac twisting his whole body slightly uncomfortably to keep the door in his sight. Then there was the sound of the fumbling of keys from the other side of the door. Then the lock twisted. 

Courfeyrac looked back at Combeferre in confusion only to find the emotion reflected on the other’s features. 

“Um,” Combeferre said with his eyebrows drawn together. “Who could..?” 

Courfeyrac shrugged and turned back to the door. 

“Hello!” Enjolras called as the door swung open. 

“Hello person who does not live here,” Combeferre deadpanned. 

“Hello Enj!” Courfeyrac exclaimed at the same time. “We were just talking about you.” 

“One: hello Courf; two: I have a key; three: what a coincidence,” Enjolras said with a smile as he closed the door. 

“Why do you have a key?” Combeferre asked as Enjolras started toward the couch. 

“Because I am your friend and I love you both,” Enjolras answered. 

“How did you get a key?” Combeferre questioned. There was a brief pause before Enjolras answered. 

“I took Marius’s,” he said quickly. 

“Enjolras!” Courfeyrac yelled like a parent scolding a toddler. “We gave him that key for emergencies!” 

“I’m more likely to get in an emergency than him,” Enjolras said and actually sat on the couch next to Courfeyrac. “Besides, I was gonna copy it and give it back, but I never got around to it.” 

“Do you know Marius? He could have an emergency,” Courfeyrac said, looking at Enjolras. 

“So could I!” He said. 

“Yes, but you know how to get out of an emergency; he does not,” Courfeyrac explained. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Enjolras said and slumped into the couch. It was one of the only times Courf had seen him admit he’d lost an argument so easily. He must have been tired. 

“On another note,” Combeferre said, finally closing the book and setting it on the arm of the couch, “I thought we gave Marius a key in case we had an emergency.” 

“Yeah, that’s part of it, but that’s not the point here,” Courfeyrac said and dismissed the point with a wave of his hand. Combeferre just chuckled and shook his head. 

“I like Marius, but he’s kind of goofy some- no,” Enjolras paused, “most of the time,” he finished with a nod of his head. 

“Goofy? Goofy? “ Courfeyrac gasped and raised a hand to his chest dramatically. “Excuse me. He’s going to be my best man at my wedding one day.” He said it as a joke but- 

“Oh my god you two are already talking about the wedding?” Enjolras said, looking genuinely shocked. Combeferre choked. Courfeyrac looked over to see that Combeferre suddenly had a mug of what seemed to be tea he must have pulled out of thin air because he did not have it twenty seconds ago. 

“No, that’s not a thing,” Courfeyrac stuttered out, not sure what else to say. 

“Yet,” Enjolras muttered and sunk even deeper into the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table. 

Courfeyrac was now pretty sure they had him convinced they were dating. 

“Um,” Combeferre said and reached to pick up the book, changed his mind, fiddled with his glasses, and stood up with his mysterious mug of tea and walked toward the kitchen. “I’ll be right back,” he said when he was already gone. 

“Did you see his face?” Enjolras said. “He looked flustered.” 

“Yeah, because you said that when we’ve been dating for like a week and a half,” Courfeyrac said, looking at Enjolras. He distantly wondered how Combeferre would have reacted to that if they were really dating, not still just friends. “Also, who actually says ‘flustered’ out loud?” 

“I do,” Enjolras scoffed. 

“Obviously,” Courfeyrac said and stood up to follow Combeferre into the kitchen. 

“You okay?” Courfeyrac asked when he saw Combeferre standing with his back to the entrance. 

“Yeah,” he said, turning around and smiling. Something wasn’t right about his smile, though. It was a little too tight around the corners of his mouth (and Courfeyrac would know, he spend enough time looking at that mouth in a not- platonic way), but Courfeyrac decided not to say anything. “You think we have him convinced?” 

“Oh yeah.” Courfeyrac nodded and moved to stand next to Combeferre, leaning against the countertop. 

“That’s good, since he’s the main person we need to convince so he can’t blow our cover this weekend,” Combeferre said. 

“Right,” Courfeyrac said with a nod. “Exactly.” 

Their ridiculous plan was actually going to work. 

“This is gonna work,” he whispered, half to himself. 

“I think so,” Combeferre said, grinning just enough to call it a smirk. 

“What are you grinning like that for?” Courfeyrac demanded. “This was my plan, not your’s.” 

“Okay, whatever,” Combeferre answered and shook his head, smiling fully and laughing. 

“What? So you came up with the genius idea?” Courfeyrac asked. He attempted to be serious about it, but Combeferre’s laugh was contagious, and he ended up laughing through it. 

“No, I did not,” Combeferre sighed, then laughed some more when he looked at Courfeyrac. There was something in his eyes that Courfeyrac absolutely adored. 

If he could only look at one thing for the rest of his life it would probably be the expression of Combeferre’s face at that moment. Or just Combeferre’s face at any moment. He wasn’t too picky. 

“Are you two done being gay yet?” Enjolras called from the other room. Combeferre sighed again and looked from Courfeyrac to the door and back again. 

“We love him,” Courfeyrac said and walked toward the doorway backwards, so he was still facing Combeferre with a grin on his face. 

“Yeah we do,” Combeferre responded and followed. 

Courfeyrac spun around so he was facing the right way as he entered the room. 

“So Enj,” he started, “is there a reason you came by?” 

“No,” Enjolras answered simply and avoided eye contact from where he sat on the couch. Courfeyrac raised an eyebrow.

“I hate to not hear about the thing that is very obviously a thing that is bothering you, but I have to go to bed,” Combeferre said, walking up from behind Courfeyrac and pausing beside him. 

“Okay, goodnight,” Enjolras said. 

“Goodnight,” Courfeyrac echoed. 

“Night, Enj. Night, love,” he said and leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss onto Courfeyrac’s temple before walking off to his bedroom. 

How the fuck was Courfeyrac supposed to think about anything other than that for the rest of time? 

“So what’s bothering you, Enj?” He attempts to rip his thoughts from it before he can completely get lost in them. 

“I’ll tell you later,” Enjolras answered and stood up. “Ferre’s right. It’s getting late. I’ll see you later. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight,” Courfeyrac said and walked him to the door. Enjolras walked away with a wave as Courfeyrac shut the door behind him and leaned against it. 

And now Courfeyrac had plenty of time to try to think about something else, but also knowing it would be a useless wish.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep I'm still here and still working on this. Sorry it's been a month and a half. The next chapter *should* be quicker than that! (No promises though, sorry.) Anyway, here ya go.

Courfeyrac woke to his alarm blaring on the highest volume.

He groaned as he reached out and blindly fumbled around on his bedside table until he knocked his phone to the floor. The alarm kept going.

He groaned again as he opened his eyes to look for his phone. He'd taken too long to turn it off, so the screen had turned off, and pairing that with the curtains he had pulled shut, seeing anything in his room was difficult. He ended up patting the floor between the table and the bed for a few seconds before he hit his phone. It took him another few seconds to hit snooze and turn the damn noises off. He dropped his phone onto the bed next to him and buried his face in his pillow again.

"Courf, you don't have time for that!" Combeferre called from what sounded like the other side of the apartment.

Courfeyrac grumbled the verbal equivalent of a keyboard smash into his pillow.

"You're the one who chose to sleep in as late as possible and not pack last night." Combeferre was suddenly a lot closer to his room than it had sounded like five seconds before.

Courfeyrac had been trying his hardest not to act weird around Combeferre since he did the whole kiss thing- because _oh yeah_ , he was still thinking about it. Which was weird because it wasn’t even a real kiss. He kissed him on the temple. It was nothing.

It was good enough to convince Enjolras though.

It was also good enough to mess with Courfeyrac’s head.

It was going to be difficult to stop everything when they got back after this weekend and told their friends it was all fake.

"Courfeyrac," Combeferre said, less distant than both times before. Courfeyrac jumped and his eyes snapped open, but they quickly closed again when he took in the light pouring in through the open door way.

Because Combeferre was now in his room.

“You have to get up.”

“Mmph,” Courfeyrac grumbled, pulling his blanket over his head.

“Nope,” Combeferre said and ripped the blanket away from Courfeyrac, balling it in his arms against his chest. “You’re the one that made the plans with Enjolras for getting to and from the thing. You’re the one that decided not to pack until the morning we leave. You’re the one responsible for your suffering right now.”

Courfeyrac wasn’t paying attention to any of it.

“You look ridiculous,” he laughed instead.

“You’re the one with the yellow and purple bed spread,” Combeferre said, completely missing that Courfeyrac meant how he looked with his arms wrapped all the way around the blanket yet still standing tall, as if ruining Courfeyrac’s dream of not going to the event was something to be proud of.

Then Combeferre took a walk around the room and turned on every light before turning around and walking back out.

“I hate you,” Courfeyrac mumbled when Combeferre was already gone. Then he sighed and squinted as he looked around the room. “A lot. I hate you a lot.”

He dragged himself out of bed and across the room to turn the brightest lights off and rubbed his eyes before leaving his room.

When Courfeyrac entered the main room of the apartment from his room there was a perfect view of the doorway- meaning there was also a perfect view from the doorway to him whenever he entered or exited his room, which he and Combeferre learned the hard way on one of the worst days possible… they didn’t talk about that- but that day, Courfeyrac had a perfect view of Combeferre’s packed bags sitting by the doorway. It did a perfect job of reminding him how Combeferre was a responsible- and somehow- functioning person, and how Courfeyrac very much was not.

With that on his mind he walked into the kitchen, where he found Combeferre sitting with a book.

“You ready to go, Courf?” he asked without looking away from the book, but Courfeyrac didn’t miss the smug smirk on his face.

Courfeyrac looked at himself. He was standing in the middle of the kitchen in fluffy pajama pants and a neon yellow tank top, one foot had a sock on and the other didn’t, and there was no doubt his hair was sticking in every direction possible. Even as sarcasm that was a stupid question.

“Shut up,” he grumbled and sat down at the table opposite Combeferre. He brought his arms up and crossed them on the table and sat his forehead down on his arms.

“Hey, we eat off this table, get up,” Combeferre scolded. Courfeyrac sat up and stuck his tongue out at his friend. “Eat or go get ready and pack,” Combeferre added.

Courfeyrac glared at him for a moment before getting up and walking back to his room without a word. He shut the door behind him and started to change into his clothes for the day.

At some point he caught a glimpse of his hair in a mirror. His guess earlier was correct- his hair was everywhere. It was a gigantic, curly, puffy mess.

After he changed, Courfeyrac made his way to the bathroom. He spent the whole time he was dealing with his hair worrying about how he and Combeferre were actually going to pull off the whole “oh yeah, we’re dating” thing.

Courfeyrac exited the bathroom a while later, finally satisfied with the way his hair fell, and looked for Combeferre in the kitchen again.

“Hey, Ferre,” he said as he walked through the entryway.

“You packed?” Combeferre asked as he looked up from the book again.

“Shut up,” Courfeyrac said and slid back into a chair. “So we need to make sure we’re on the same page before Enjolras gets here.”

“What do you mean?” Combeferre asked, his head tilting slightly.

“With the- with the dating thing,” Courfeyrac muttered, losing confidence in talking about it. “I think we should make sure we know what we’re gonna tell people so we don’t say different things so people won’t catch on,” he rushed. Combeferre looked at him with an odd look in his eyes.

“That’s a good idea,” Combeferre said, finally closing and setting the book down for good.

“Okay first off,” Courfeyrac said seriously and leaned toward Combeferre, “be vague- don’t give anymore details than necessary. That’s how you get caught in lies.”

“Have you been talking to Eponine and Gavroche?” Combeferre asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Combeferre nodded once in acceptance. “What else?”

“We’ll tell them the same thing we told the group- the blurting it out and not really remembering it story,” Courfeyrac said. “And if you do have to make up a detail, tell me.”

“Yeah, of course,” Combeferre said, staring at Courfeyrac.

“Okay, um,” Courfeyrac said.

Then there was a knock on the door. Courfeyrac didn’t really know where he was going with that anyway.

“And that’ll be Enjolras,” Combeferre said, jumping up to answer the door.

“You two ready?” Enjolras asked as soon as the door was open wide enough.

“Someone isn’t,” Combeferre said and turned to look accusingly at Courfeyrac, but it didn’t have the desired effect because he was also smiling.

“Good,” Enjolras said and walked over to the sofa and proceeded to plop onto it with a sigh. “I don’t wanna go,” he said simply.

“We don’t have a choice,” Combeferre said flatly, obviously not excited to go either.

“I know, I know,” Enjolras said like he’d already been told a thousand times- which he probably had.

“I’m almost ready,” Courfeyrac said and ran back to his room to start packing.

“He hasn’t started packing yet, has he?” Courfeyrac heard Enjolras say to Combeferre.

“Did you really expect him to?” Combeferre answered.

“I can hear you!” Courfeyrac called from his room, where he was running about and shoving things into his bag.

“Don’t let anything wrinkle!” Combeferre called.

“Too late!” Courfeyrac shouted and shoved another shirt into the bag before darting across the hall to the bathroom to grab the rest of his things.

“Almost ready!” he said again, shoving the last few items into his suitcase and pulling the zipper shut. He grabbed the bag and went back to the main room where Enjolras and Combeferre were waiting. They both looked amused.

“I doubt you have everything,” Combeferre stated.

“Eh, so do I,” Courfeyrac answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

Combeferre tilted his head and gave Courfeyrac a look- like a Look. Enjolras shook his head slightly and chuckled.

“You two,” he said. Combeferre turned his head and was now giving him the Look.

“What?” he asked. Enjolras looked between the two again before he answered.

“You’re cute,” he said, “that’s all.”

Courfeyrac felt his cheeks heat up, but was careful with his response.

“Thank you, Enj,” he said. “I think so too.”

Okay… careful but not graceful.

Combeferre looked at him.

And looked at him.

And looked at him.

“Thanks Enjolras,” he said, eyes finally jerking away from Courfeyrac.

Courfeyrac decided to ignore him and play up the couple thing… which he realized would be difficult while not thinking about Combeferre. He changed his mind.

“I guess you’re ready to go, Enj?” he asked instead, saying the first thing that came to mind.

“Unfortunately,” he sighed.

“You can talk about Grantaire all the way there,” Courfeyrac said and walked to join his friends on the sofa. Enjolras’s cheeks grew red as he sat down.

“We’d better get going,” Combeferre said. Courfeyrac glared at him.

“But your boyfriend just sat down,” Enjolras said. Combeferre turned away suddenly and walked to pick up his bags.

“We have to go,” he said.

“Ugh,” Courfeyrac groaned and hauled himself off the sofa. “Okay.”

Then they were on their way. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group gets to the hotel and checks in, but things don't go completely according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo look how quickly this chapter came.

Enjolras took advantage of Courfeyrac’s “talk about Grantaire the whole way there” joke. Courfeyrac wasn’t sure he took a single breath the whole way there.  
  
The group stood in line to check into the hotel, trying to ignore the huge banner hanging over the entrance to what was probably a ballroom.  
  
“Well now we know what the event is,” Courfeyrac said a little uncomfortably.  
  
“An excuse to get together and gossip every few years and pretend to do good,” Enjolras said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. They all three turned in unison to look at the banner. “Charity Event” it read.  
  
“Did we ever doubt that was what it was though,” Courfeyrac said.  
  
“The gossip part, no, but they didn’t even put that much effort into the charity part,” Enjolras answered, looking between Courfeyrac and Combeferre.  
  
“What makes you say that?” Courfeyrac asked, ready for a long but most likely accurate answer.  
  
“They just called it ‘charity event,’” Enjolras snapped in anger and frustration. “They didn’t even own up to putting on a charity event, or coming up with a better name. What kind of charity is it? Who is it helping? Who’s doing it? How? And how do we find out? Not from the sign!”

Courfeyrac was correct about it most likely being an accurate answer.   
  
Combeferre blinked.  
  
“Enjolras are you okay?”  
  
He was answered only with a glare before the person in line before them moved and they could see the man behind the desk.  
  
“Hello,” he chirped far too cheerfully.  
  
“Hello,” Combeferre said and stepped up to the desk, the others following behind him.  
  
“We’re here for that thing,” Courfeyrac said and pointed to the sign.  
  
“Unfortunately,” he heard Enjolras mutter and couldn’t help but agree.  
  
“Okay,” the man muttered, ignoring Enjolras, and clicking keyboard and mouse. A moment later he looked up and asked, “So who’s rooming together?”  
  
“Excuse me?” Courfeyrac asked, surprise in his voice.  
  
“There are only two more rooms reserved for that event, sir,” the man responded and looked at his computer again. “And it appears we don’t have any more available rooms.” And with that he looked up, expecting an answer to his original question.  
  
“Could you give us a moment,” Courfeyrac requested, raising his hand slightly to gesture they wouldn’t be long. He turned to Enjolras, “I thought they said there should be more than enough rooms.”

“They did,” Enjolras said, but he didn’t sound very concerned. “But this isn’t a huge problem is it? I mean since you two already live together and are- ya know- dating.”  
  
“Right,” Courfeyrac said quickly. He wasn’t prepared for that, but okay. He looked at Combeferre, who looked a little helpless but didn’t object, before turning back to the man at the desk.  
  
“We’re rooming together,” he said and pointed between him and Combeferre.  
  
“Alrighty,” he said cheerfully. He was starting to get on Courfeyrac’s nerves. He clicked his computer mouse a few more times and a moment later handed Courfeyrac and Combeferre each a key. “So you two will be in room 203. Have a nice stay.” And with that he turned and looked expectantly at Enjolras.  
  
A few minutes later the three of them were on their way to put their things in their rooms before going back down to the ballroom for the first round of the charity event. Enjolras’s room was down the hall from theirs, and he made his way there as Courfeyrac used his newly acquired key to unlock their door.  
  
As the door swung open, Courfeyrac didn’t notice the huge window with a decent view. He didn’t notice the fancy, expensive looking décor that hung from the walls. He noticed the bed.  
  
The single bed.  
  
As in _the only_ bed.  
  
There was only one bed.  
  
“There’s only one bed,” he said. He noted the slight panic in his voice. Then he ignored it. “Combeferre there’s only one bed.”  
  
“I can see that, Courfeyrac,” Combeferre responded calmly, walking through the open doorway and sitting on the bed. ( _The only fucking bed._ )  
  
Courfeyrac followed him into the room and pulled the door shut behind him. He dropped his bag to the floor and sat next to Combeferre on the bed.  
  
(THE ONLY FUCKING BED.)

Courfeyrac wasn’t prepared for this. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t handle this.  
  
Then it hit him that he really didn’t have a choice and that he really did this to himself.

He felt himself calm down, but his stomach still twisted nervously at the thought of actually sleeping in a bed with Combeferre. Sure, there had been times in the past when they ended up falling asleep together on the sofa or on one of their beds, but it had never been planned or intentional like this would be.   
  
“You’re right,” he said, considerably calmer. “I don’t know what was wrong with me, freaking out like that before.” He did know- it was that he was an idiot. But he could do this.  
  
Probably.  
  
Maybe.  
  
Not.  
  
Probably not.  
  
“Okay,” Combeferre said and stood up. “We have to get ready to go back down there.”  
  
“Ugh,” Courfeyrac said and flopped so he was lying on his back on the bed.

“I don’t really think jeans and a plain t-shirt is gonna work. At least change into a nice shirt,” Combeferre suggested, opening and digging around in his bag before heading to the bathroom to change.

“Ugh,” Courfeyrac repeated and raised his arms just to flop them onto the bed again.

“Stop being dramatic and find clothes to change into,” Combeferre said. Courfeyrac thought he was probably trying to sound stern, but his laugh ruined it.

Courfeyrac sat up as Combeferre walked into the (surprisingly spacious for a hotel) bathroom to change and began searching through his bag for something that wasn’t neon. He waited for Combeferre to finish changing and looked around the room, finally noticing how nice it was.

After a few seconds he realized all he needed to do was change his shirt and that he didn’t really need the privacy of the bathroom for that. They’d been friends and lived together long enough Combeferre had seen him without shirt plenty of times, and it wasn’t like Courfeyrac was shy in the first place.

He reached over his head and tugged his shirt off before throwing it on the bed. He pulled the black button up he’s chosen to wear downstairs onto his shoulders. He worked on getting all the buttons right, and was almost done when Combeferre opened the bathroom door. He chuckled when he saw that Courfeyrac had already changed.

“Lose patience?” he asked. Courfeyrac shrugged as he finished buttoning the last button.

“It’s just the shirt,” he said. “We’ve been friends as long as I can remember and live together, it’s nothing you haven’t seen anyway.”

He looked Combeferre up and down, taking in his new outfit. It worked. He was donning a white button down tucked into dark pants, and Courfeyrac noticed his nice dress shoes and wondered where he had packed them. He was sure he hadn’t been wearing them on the way there.

Courfeyrac had elected to leave on the black jeans he’s arrived in, but they were fairly new and nice. They had no stains and no holes and looked damn good with the black shirt. His shoes were nice enough to not get any snarky comments, so he didn’t see any point in fishing another pair out of his bag (which he wasn’t even sure he packed in the rush of the morning).

“You ready?” Combeferre asked, glancing and gesturing towards the door.

“Yeah, um,” Courfeyrac said, “does my hair look okay?” He took a few steps so he could catch a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror and lifted his hands to his hair.

“Your hair looks fine, Courf,” Combeferre said, reaching for one of Courfeyrac’s hands to hold in his own. “Convincing,” he explained when Courfeyrac raised an eyebrow.

“Right,” Courfeyrac said and nodded his head once.

Combeferre took a step toward the door, pulling Courfeyrac along with him, just as there was a knock on the door. They made their way over and Combeferre opened the door.

“You guys ready for this to all start?” Enjolras asked, standing in the open doorway, unphased by the hand holding at that point.

“I’m sure it’s already started,” Courfeyrac said. “We’re just late.”

Enjolras didn’t reply to that, he simply turned to the end of the hallway with the elevator.

“Maybe we can slip in quietly,” he said as the others followed him and closed the door behind them.

“I doubt it,” Combeferre said from a few steps behind him. Enjolras ignored him and pressed the button for the elevator. Courfeyrac and Combeferre caught up with him and they all stood waiting for the elevator in silence. When it arrived with a ding they all stepped on in silence, Combeferre and courfeyrac still holding hands.

Courfeyrac was beginning to get used to the feeling of Combeferre’s hand in his.

“By the way,” Enjolras said and looked over at the others with an eyebrow raised, “they’re all going to freak out over that.” He tipped his head and flickered his eyes down to their hands. “So good luck with all that.”

“Thanks,” Courfeyrac grumbled. Combeferre squeezed his hand and Courfeyrac looked up at him. The look on his face seemed to say ‘you did this.’

Courfeyrac did not need that reminder.

“They’re also gonna think it’s the cutest thing ever,” Enjolras added as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open and he stepped out.

_We would be_ Courfeyrac thought before he and Combeferre stepped out of the elevator.

“You ready?” he muttered to Combeferre.

“Yeah,” he answered. “I guess so.”

Courfeyrac glanced at Enjolras to make sure he was far enough ahead to be out of earshot.

“And remember,” Courfeyrac muttered just to be sure Enjolras wouldn’t hear him. “If you have to kiss me, kiss me like you mean it.”

“I know,” Combeferre replied, giving him a tight smile before leading him toward Enjolras at the entrance of the ballroom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "They're gonna think it's the cutest thing ever" that's because it is, Enjolras.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These losers realize a little too late they actually have to find a way to tell people at this thing they're a couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there demons, it's me ya boi, showing up over a year later with a short as hell chapter. About a month and a half ago I received a very lovely comment on this fic that inspired me to continue with it. I have a lot going on and even more going on when you take my mental health stuff into consideration, so there is no way to know how often I'll be updating from now on, but at the moment I truly intent to finish it. I have no idea what the lengths of future chapter will be, but I can tell you that there are going to be some (if everything goes to plan). I hope you enjoy this chapter!

The doors to the ballroom were open and the group could hear the chatter and clattering from inside. Courfeyrac heard Enjolras sigh from where he stood on the other side of Combeferre. 

“Alright,” he said firmly. Then he pushed his shoulders back confidently and walked inside. Combeferre and Courfeyrac followed him wordlessly. No one inside noticed them at first, so they began to make their way to a table with three empty seats. 

But they didn’t make it before Enjolras’s mother noticed them and squealed from across the room. She quickly excused herself from whatever conversation she was having and maneuvered her way through the mass of people, tables, and chairs. 

“Oh my gosh,” she she said when she reached them. “It’s so good to see you boys it’s been so long. How are you? When did you get here? Are you hungry? Here, I’ll show you to our table.” 

Courfeyrac didn’t like the use of the word “our” in that sentence. It implied they would all be sitting at a table with her. Which would be a nightmare any day, but it would be so much worse this time. He suddenly became even more aware of Combeferre’s hand, which was still holding his. 

“We just got here, mother,” Enjolras said tightly. 

“Oh well that’s just wonderful boys,” she said breathlessly. “I want to hear everything that’s new with you all. Especially what I was talking to Courfeyrac about the other day.” She turned around quickly and winked at him as she led them through the room.

And there went the last of Courfeyrac’s secret hope that she had forgotten about it all. Well, at least he came prepared. 

Enjolras looked at Courfeyrac with a questioning look. Courfeyrac gestured to his and Combeferre’s hands and Enjolras’s face cleared. 

“Of course, mother,” Enjolras said flatly, no doubt he was making a list of everything stupid he had done since he last saw her. 

“Enjolras,” Combeferre groaned under his breath, as if he had had the same thought Courfeyrac did.

“I won’t do anything stupid,” Enjolras hissed. 

“Oh, I’m sure it’s too late for that, sweetheart,” his mother said in her specific ‘everything you do is stupid and useless voice’ as she sat down at a table at the front of the room. 

~~~

Courfeyrac had never seen Enjolras’s mother so invested in any of their lives before. She hung to every detail of any story any of them told. She was nodding her head and asking questions and it was beginning to freak Courfeyrac out.

Combeferre was finishing up his rant about some huge scientific discovery that was made a few months ago when she cracked. Courfeyrac was very disappointed when he stopped talking, his eyes were lit up and he was waving his hands wildly as he spoke. Courfeyrac knew he was probably staring at Combeferre like he put the stars in the sky, but that’s exactly what he needed to be doing, so he figured it would be okay. 

“That’s so interesting, Combeferre dear,” she said and dismissed the end of his speech with a wave of her hand. Courfeyrac could feel Enjolras tense up beside him. He hated when she did that. Combeferre stopped abruptly and dropped his hands to the table in defeat. 

Courfeyrac reached one of his hands up from his lap where they were resting to grab Combeferre’s hand in his. He looked a Ferre’s face as he did. He didn’t even flinch. He seemed more used to this whole thing than Courfeyrac was, which he supposed was a good thing. Having Combeferre more in the right state of mind for this thing was far better than having Courfeyrac the more sane one. 

“Courfyrac,” Enjolras’s mother’s shrill voice pulled him from his thoughts about how to make sure this lie was good enough to fool her. “You’ve been quite, dear.” 

“I’ve been letting them get their news in, because I know our conversation won’t stop once it start,” he lied. He truly just didn’t like the situation he’d put himself in. 

“That’s sweet of you, dear,” she said with a smile. Courfeyrac was getting sick of hearing the word ‘dear’ come out of her mouth, and they had only been there ten minutes. He didn’t want to imagine how he was going to feel about it when the weekend was finally over. Luckily, though... possibly, he didn’t get the chance to. 

Her smile fell away and her face become more serious than the time he and Enjolras had tracked dirt all over the white rug on her living room floor when they were kids. Why did she even have that carpeting? Courfeyrac suddenly wondered, did she not know her own child? 

“I think they’re done now, though.” 

Courfeyrac looked at Combeferre, who was already looking at him. In that moment, Courfeyrac pictured all of the solutions to their problem he had created and hated himself for rushing him and Ferre into this one. 

He gulped one last time before looking at her and speaking. 

“So… I told you I have a boyfriend.” 

“Yes, you did.” She nodded.

“Someone you already knew.” 

“Yes, and I’m dying to know who it is.” 

“Well,” Courfeyrac said and glanced quickly down at his and Combeferre’s hands, which were clearly holding each other on the surface of the table. 

“Oh boy,” Enjolras muttered. Courfeyrac hadn’t exactly planned out what he was going to say to her. He remembered planning to put something together, but he’d avoided the topic until it was far too late for him to do anything. Luckily for him, Combeferre took the lead this time. 

“That would be me,” he said, and lifted their hands off the table up to eye level so she could see. There was silence at the table. Courfeyrac could hear the chattering and noises from everyone else at the event. 

They all watched her face as her jaw dropped for a moment and then a wide smile grew on her face. Courfeyrac was surprised to realize that it was an actual, genuine smile. 

“Oh my gosh would you look at you two,” she squealed. “Oh my goodness it’s about time.” 

Courfeyrac would have sworn he felt his heart stop with those words.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is just an introduction to the fic. I want to make most of the chapters longer than this was, but I posted this to keep myself motivated to write this because I really want to finish it. I'm not sure how often I'll update. It shouldn't be too irregular, I make no promises though. Thanks for reading!


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